Darkness
by Spirit of a Rose
Summary: Trapped inside Kronos' stomach, the five original Olympians look for hope in the darkness.


The darkness bothers her the most.

Hera turns onto her side, twisting to find room as someone's sharp elbow pokes into her side. Her back presses against the hard wall of muscle and flesh, and she shudders at the sensation.

"Stop squirming," a voice complains by her ear. The elbow suddenly vanishes as the shapeless figure moves away from her, jostling the others. There's a chorus of 'ow!' and 'stop that!' before her siblings finally quiet again.

Hera returns to her thoughts. There isn't much else to do here, trapped with her four elder siblings, other than listening to the endless bickering or Poseidon's futile escape plans.

"We could still try," he says from somewhere by her feet, picking up an argument from earlier. "If we all push, perhaps then-"

"And get doused in that disgusting stuff Mother always gives him for a stomachache?" Demeter demands. "Not again."

"I think-" Hestia pipes up in her quiet voice, but Poseidon ignores her. "Well, what else can we do?" he retorts. "If you have any brilliant escape plans, by all means, share them. The rest of you may be content to lie here in darkness, but I am most certainly not. I want to be free."

"Then do us all a favor and find Father's arse," Demeter says sarcastically. "Then at least we'd be rid of you. I'm sure he wouldn't notice the difference in what comes out."

"What if-" Hestia tries again.

"Just like a woman," Poseidon says. "Always complaining, never actually doing anything useful. Just because you lack the courage doesn't mean the rest of us share your lack of a spine."

Hera closes her eyes and tries to tune them out as their voices rise. Poseidon is usually the most easy-going of them all, save Hestia, but once ignited, his temper is equally slow to calm. Even Demeter, sharp-tongued and fearless, tends to back down -except, of course, here there is no room to squabble, and Poseidon's threats are limited to words. It makes him increasingly short-tempered and the others just as quick to bicker.

"Enough," Hades says finally, and even Demeter falls silent at his tone. "Father is the Lord of Time, even that outside the limits of space. This is a prison within his flesh, within time itself. We are trapped here until something causes Father to free us."

"How do you know?" Poseidon says stubbornly.

"I heard Mother speak of it," the older boy says quietly, and the others fall silent once more. Seconds tick by, then Hestia says timidly, "What if Mother frees us?"

Her elder sister's meekness irritates Hera. "She won't," she snaps, and turns her head away.

"She can't," Demeter says flatly. "I heard someone ask Father about it. He said Mother wouldn't dare."

"But-" Hestia begins.

"Why not?" Poseidon sounds as though he's frowning. "We are her children."

Hades laughs bitterly. "That didn't stop Father from swallowing us whole."

"But-" Hestia tries again.

"Mother isn't like that," Poseidon argues. "She'll find a way."

"Oh, yes," Demeter says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Like last time. What is the stupid rock even supposed to do? Little good it does us here. Perhaps Mother is just like Father. Perhaps she wants us gone, too."

"I heard-" Hestia says desperately.

Poseidon starts to say something, but Hades cuts him off. "Let her speak," he orders, and the younger boy falls reluctantly silent. Four pairs of eyes turn to stare at the spot where Hestia's voice came from.

Hestia hesitates. "I heard Mother say she would save us," she says.

Voices erupt. Hades snaps for quiet, but Demeter ignores him. An elbow jostles Hera, and she shoves back angrily. A large hand finds her hair and grips, hard, and she takes the warning and goes limp. There's a yelp as Poseidon silences Demeter in a less subtle way.

"Thank you," Hades says grimly. "Hestia, continue."

"Father was asleep," Hestia says. "We were, too. Poseidon bumped me" –the large shape besides Hera shifts guiltily- "and I woke up. Mother was whispering to us. I could hear her voice, as clearly as if you or I were speaking. She told us…" she hesitates. "She told us she was sorry for what Father had done. She said she would save us. And then the walls started moving and she stopped talking. I think Father was waking up."

"That's all?" Hades asks. The darkness is too dense to see, but Hades quiets as if she had given him an answer.

"Could it have been a dream?" Demeter says abruptly. "I have them too, sometimes. A voice telling me that I'll see the light again someday. It says even Father cannot prevent Fate." Her voice twists bitterly. "Not that I've ever believed it."

"No," Hestia says. "It wasn't a dream."

Poseidon stirs. "I believe her," he says.

"Of course you would," Demeter scoffs, but she sounds unsure. "Hera? What do you think?"

Hera stares at the darkness. _You shall see light,_ the dream had told her. _The darkness shall end. It is fated._ And the other dreams, the ones she hasn't spoken of. _You shall hold your savior in your arms, for he will bring light and warmth, your hope and your folly._

"Why not?" she says. "We're still stuck in here, anyway. We might as well believe it."

"I believe Mother," Hestia says quietly.

"It's a chance," Hades admits.

"A hope," Poseidon agrees. Demeter sighs. "Why not?" she says. "It's not like we have anything else. I don't know if any of you have cryptic dreams, but it's still better than them."

"We shall wait, then," Hades says simply. "And hope."

Four heads nod agreement in the darkness.


End file.
